


Walking and Talking Point

by gardnerhill



Series: Cats and Dogs Living Together [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:23:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes is a cat and Watson's a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking and Talking Point

On our first day together, Shock insisted on taking me on a tour of the nearby streets and alleys. I would have ignored the scrawny little black cat, but I was full of curiosity about his ability to know so much about me upon first sighting me. 

"I see everything you see, but unlike you I notice everything," Shock said, bounding down from a windowsill and landing light as a leaf. "When you showed up to brighten my little corner of the alley, I thought, 'Here is a maimed Alsatian who holds himself at the same readiness as the canines of the Royal Army Corps, missing limb or no – so, clearly an army dog. Unlike attack dogs who wear only their collars, you hold the stance of one used to carrying packs, like the dogs specially trained to assist the medical corps.'"

I hobbled behind him, and occasionally beneath him as the cat was fond of maintaining high ground. It made me feel like a beta in his pack, having to look up so much to see the creature bounding along in tree limbs and atop parked cars; it did not endear him to me. 

Shock continued after a cursory swipe of his whiskers and a lick of his chops; for a cold little beast he was certainly happy to tell me how ignorant I was, at length. "Your fur is thinner than a London dog's, and not just from recent hunger; you have been in a hot part of the world. The bare skin around your missing leg shows the marks of burns, so you are not a stray that got hit by a car – you lost the leg in an attack that included fire or explosions. So, most likely in a fight in that hot place."

My missing leg hurt and burned all over again, but I knew by now there was nothing for me to lick better, so I ignored it. Marking a fireplug, balancing two-legged, was a new skill of mine – I was pleased that I no longer collapsed, or conversely wet myself like a pup. Shock watched me, and I fancied I saw a glint of amusement at my expense in those bright eyes and twitching whiskers. 

We headed toward the middle of the city, toward more cars and noise and smells; I was nervous, but I stayed alert and kept listening to Shock. 

"Your injury was well-treated, but you are presently starving and infested – that implies that you have gone down in the world very recently. Your trainer took good care of you and can't any more –he or she is either dead or was badly hurt as well and cannot help you now. You came to me with Stafford, who knows I'm looking for a pairing for protection." He stopped at a crossroads and groomed one foreleg, his back to me. 

I stared at the cat. I still had to rein in my natural urge to bite or snap at the thing, but now my distaste was mingled with a dawning, grudging respect. "You're…That's … that's very good."

"Of course it's very good," Shock said. "I'm the best finder in London. I can find things and find out about others better than any other creature. Everyone comes to me for help, because I'm the best."

"You're also very humble," I rumbled, amused and irritated at the same time.

Shock made a short sound halfway between a hiss and a spit. "Humility is untruthful, and it wouldn't help me find things. Humility is for dogs and pack creatures who need to suck up to others."

I am an honourable serving dog and keep my word. But at that moment, with my teeth clenched, I vowed I would one day track down the two Mastiffs who'd tried to kill Shock, and bring them a nice meaty bone to show my appreciation.

"You help everyone?" I asked snidely. "Cockroaches? Mice?"

"If the help they want is more interesting than my desire to eat them? Yes." Shock stretched and yawned, which seemed to double his length and height for a few seconds. "I even help people."

I barked out loud in derision, making some humans edge away from the big 3-legged dog in fear. The thought of Shock – of _any_ cat – aiding human beings was too ridiculous to consider. 

"I'm going to help those protector humans in five breaths," Shock said. "Watch me, army dog."

My ears had already swiveled to pick up the piercing whistles and shouts from a knot of people that were running in our direction and coming closer, becoming louder. One in front, a male, holding a female's carrier bag, was pursued by two protectors in their uniforms. Everyone was shouting, and the man with the bag was far ahead and about to cross the street.

"Three," said Shock, "two, one." And Shock simply walked across the path, right in front of the running man. 

The man stopped and froze, fear on his face, for just a breath. And that breath was when the protectors caught him. 

I wasn't panting – my mouth was open in disbelief, watching as the man was leashed and restrained, the bag taken away from him. That man could have _kicked_ Shock out of the way without noticing anything, but he'd reacted like a cornered mouse. 

"It's a valuable thing to know," Shock's voice said behind me, and I practically reared on my hind legs to turn and stare at him. He had bounded up onto a windowsill and dropped daintily back down afterward. "Not my doing, army dog, and no great power of mine – except the power of watching and knowing things."

"How – how," I stammered, whuffing again. 

"Some people are frightened of cats," Shock said. "And they're even more frightened of black cats. I learned to smell that fear, and I learned that if I walked in front of them they would stop or even go another way. That man reeked of cat-fear. Time to run, army dog." And he tore off just as one of the protectors pointed and shouted at me. 

Belatedly, I remembered that I was now a stray dog and could be caught by human protectors if I didn't do what Shock said. 

My gait was a ridiculous lope rather than my former smooth gallop, but I could now go fast. I made tracks and was soon back in our alleyway -- the alleyway I was forced to share with a damned cat, I told myself angrily. Just that, and nothing more. I flopped into my box and gnawed at my kipper tin, ears pricked for Shock's return. 

Just that, and nothing more.


End file.
